


One For the Money

by Enterthetadpole



Category: Good Mythical Morning, Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Bank Robbery, Banking AU, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2019-11-08 09:52:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17979116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enterthetadpole/pseuds/Enterthetadpole
Summary: Rhett hates everything about his life. His job. His romances. Himself. Until he meets a friendly stranger...





	1. Breathing is Harder when Sober

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first real attempt to be more detailed with my writing. I would love anyone who has the time to provide feedback on it. Thank you!

The steady sound of water dripping is the only reason Rhett opened his eyes. The tone of each droplet as it smashed into the cracked porcelain. Almost rhythmic enough to create a layer of music to lull him back to sleep.

 _Almost_.

There was _way_ more involved to Rhett slumbering for more than a few hours at most. Sleep was never a companion, but a challenge. A soft threat that played at the corners of his mind, and flirted with true unconsciousness. Still, he would vainly rest his taut muscles as much as he could.

The splashing noise of the master bathroom sink continued to echo. Long abandoned in favor of washing his hands in the hallway bathroom of his shared apartment, he started to inch towards the edge of the bed. It was better this way. Provide a reason to move away from the grave of his mattress, and pretend to be something willing to shave his beard to a manageable length. Brush his teeth and shampoo his sandy brown hair until he could convince anyone who looked up into his face that he wasn't dying inside.

The body next to him shifted, and he doesn't flinch when the toned forearms began to trace the lines of his narrow hips. Breath lingered of last night's mistakes and consequences smelled so much like rum as it weaved its way from the back of Rhett's neck to invade and then nestle into his nostrils. The ache in his overly long spine throbbed to find temporary relief in a shower.

“You're cold. I should warm you up,” the voice behind him rasped, the lips dragging across the shell of his left ear. The slight tickle was off putting, with even the clock on the side table was judging him on how he spent his _entire_ weekend.

“Already later than I should be,” Rhett answered, but still he didn't budge from the shelter of heavy blankets that covered the slight curve of his rear end and stomach. The narrow legs and arms exposed to the coolness of daybreak, screaming helplessly for the rejuvenating power of coffee.

Rhett felt the annoyance from the other man way before he sat up to tilt his head from side to side to crack his rigid neck. His back was a trainwreck of years full of basketball layups, yet still he attempted to beg his body to behave.

Plus all of the rounds of sex didn't help.

“You sure?” Josh asked, his lips twisted into a playful smirk. “Your mouth says _no_ but that morning wood is telling me a _whole_ other story.”

It wasn't the first time that Josh would lure him back into his waiting embrace, and Rhett would slot himself into the familiar doom that was whatever the hell this was he was having with his roommate. Josh had reasons for enjoying the ebb and flow. All the benefits of a relationship with none of the excess weight of _actually_ being something more than the occasional fuck. On days when they met in the middle of their apartment, to go over bills and the woes of bachelorhood, Josh was almost tolerable to get along with.

 _Almost_.

It was an arrangement that they endured as much as the coveted. To give Rhett something temporary to feel instead of nothingness, and to give Josh a charity case. It was win/win, or lose/lose depending on what mood both of them were in.

“Already took last Friday off,” Rhett said, his shoulders beginning an apologetic shrug, but gave it up as soon as he began it.

Josh never made a point of trying to convince him to stay, and today was no different. Instead, he yawned widely and settled himself back into the folds of the warmth of Rhett's king sized bed. Now relishing the fact that he was going to be alone to sprawl out like a muscle bound house cat.

The tiny part of Rhett that cared about such things was jealous of Josh's flexible life, both in and out of the sheets. By night able to take his pick of whatever set of lips took his attention, and by day have his underlings frantically take care of the restaurant he was head chef at so that he could sleep off another round of shitty situations.

Not that envying his roommate would matter. They both had enough friends to claim that the other had the better job. Only Josh would have the fortitude to argue back. To say that if they switched the chef's uniform for the suit and tie that Rhett would peel off the wooden hangers of his walk in closet, their roles were the same. To negotiate the madness of the overly pampered and fussy public.

At least they were paid well for it.

Rhett was already close to the bedroom door before connecting that today was the starting day of Customer Appreciation Week at the bank. According to Mr. Turkett, who was both Rhett's boss and bumbling to an almost cartoonish degree, the idea of the event was to bring in new regulars to their branch. The promise of free starting deposits and fresh bagels and coffee would be how they bribed. Rhett was expected to be there for the full five days of mayhem. Being the bank branch manager meant bringing a sense of trust to nervous patrons as they first entered the doors.

“Just smile and nod your head whenever it seems like a good idea,” the balding man had muttered in a rush in their laughingly short meeting a week ago. “I’ll be zipping from here to the branch off of Henderson Avenue to make sure that they don’t run out of anything. Much bigger building and the headache to go with it over there.”

Rhett swallowed a sigh, trying to figure out the how to best hide his misery at work. Fake smiles and small talk aside, he hated his position at the bank. Granted, he was convinced that his steady rise from teller to bank manager was more about endurance than actual drive. He just happened to be the only one who could deal with the bullshit of both Mr. Turkett and the huffy employees he staffed. Plus being tall didn’t hurt. His 6’7 frame screamed confidence and security that didn’t have to be followed by actions. That’s what the rest of the workers, and the paperwork was for, after all.

The shower was colder than Rhett had expected, and he yelped in response to the chill. It probably was a silent sign from above, or below, depending on how it was spun, that Rhett was definitely too old for this shit. The _shit_ in question was sleeping with a man almost half his junior for random days and nights where sexual relief was needed way more than actual affection. Josh was rough around the edges and everywhere in between. This made him exhilarating when alcohol helped numb the athletic feats that he just assumed that Rhett could still handle. Now with the dooming day peaking over the horizon, Rhett wished he had gotten an apartment with an appropriately large bathtub.

He moved slowly, in the back of his brain quietly praying for some sort of miracle that the whole week would evaporate in a puff of white smoke. Then he could just exist in his bedroom, with occasional escapes to the kitchen to eat something edible enough to keep him grounded for another day. It wasn’t huge in the realm of possibility, but a man can dream.

The clothing that he wore today was neutral. Dark brown suit with a cream colored button up. Shoes just shiny enough to calmly show that he gave at least part of a damn about his feet, and a red tie sprinkled in brown dots. The tie was the only part that was meant for people who really cared enough to look more than the shell of himself. The eight small lines surrounding each of the chestnut spots gave away that they were carefully sewn spiders on top of the crimson background. As always, the most attention was spent on coaxing his hair into a modern day pompadour. The dark golden waves suffocated with the amount of product within it, but if he had to suffer, then his hair had too.

Freshly brewed coffee was poured into the well worn silver tumbler, and drunk like a man dying of thirst in the rat race of everyday living.Then with a final glance over to his bedroom, hoping that Josh would at least attempt to pull the sheets off of the bed and into the laundry room before he left for god knows where, Rhett made a last check of his items before he locked up. House keys, office keys, wallet, and mouth spray. All accounted for and prepared to assist him, as if their mere existence was almost enough to power him along.

 _Almost_.


	2. Coffee with a Side of Apathy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and commenting! ❤️

Already Rhett knew that he had made a big mistake by not having at least one more cup of coffee before leaving his apartment. The traffic on the way to the bank was littered with multiple reasons to drive a person to drink.

Pun most certainly intended.

Mondays were created to be angry and resentful. Cars crammed with sour faces who lost their only days off to housework or poisonous relationships. Thousands of pounds of wheeled power around them to declare their unfiltered rage. Honking horns and middle fingers as frequent as the constant stop lights.

It also didn't help that the car that was Rhett's only lifeline from point a to point b was made for a much smaller customer. One that could appreciate the coziness that a Ford Fiesta could boast. As for the lanky framework that Rhett inhabited it was clear that leasing the car with no research done and buzzed on Josh's hand crafted home brew was just another reason why he needed to stop drinking. Or at least have someone sober to babysit his credit card.

Still the fairly good gas mileage helped dull the pain in his knees, and eventually he would get around to switching out for a large vehicle. Until then, he would view this to be a teachable moment.

Eventually he weaved his way into the parking lot of National USA Bank. The most exhaustingly mundane name for a business, but one that was well known and trusted enough to get plenty of notice. The dark blue letters of the sign appealing against the lighter background of gray. Barely allowing the car to be to a complete stop before placing his foot on the brake to place the gear shift into park, Rhett glanced at the large glass doors of his daily grind.

He should absolutely have had that second cup of coffee.

The front door keys to the bank jingled merrily inside the curve of his large hand. Then narrowing his green eyes to to flash of artificial light, the inside of the building came to life again. It was times like these that Rhett could respect the architecture of his workplace. From the outside, the bank screamed of rigid conformity, indistinguishable from any of the other structures beside it. However the inside if the four walls oozed the organic tones of an artistic eye. Highly detailed paintings of the city of Los Angeles were hung with expert care. The carpeted floors so thick that a person, weary from signing their life away for a house they couldn't afford, would be able to curl up and take a nap to get a renewed spurt of energy.

After locking the door back behind him, Rhett began his collection of chores before the first couple of employees would drag themselves in. Bank tellers, usually two of them to start the shift. Today would be different due to My. Turkett's insistence that a week of well placed electronic ads was going to have a crowd of eager people banging on their doors like they had won some sort of strange contest. As if five dollars being deposited into a new bank account would have anyone breaking down their doors.

The half an hour of alone time would be used turning on the various computers and devices that were critical throughout the day. Then he would retreat into his own private bubble. An office with the only luxury of a view of the outside world. The window was large and awe inspiring to the other employees. They would find silly reasons to venture into Rhett's space to just stare out into the framed sunlight, as if some sort of mystical beyond that was just discovered. Their eyes wide and sparkling at such a amazing concept called  _ natural light _ .

The melody of his texting app pulled him away from the leftover paperwork on his desk from the previous week. Usually this type of tedium would be for the lulls in the day, but last Friday he hadn't come in, so there was a much larger pile than normal. He glance over at the lit phone screen.

Stevie (8:27am) Knock knock.

Within the next moments Rhett was on his feet and headed towards the front set of glass doors again. This time the familiar face of his head teller greeted him as warmly as she could. Her blond hair dangled effortlessly from a black beanie cap, but the rest of her looking as always. _Hipster_ _professional_ is what she jokingly called it, and Rhett tended to agree. Today a navy blue sweater dress draped to the bottom of her slender knees, and cute black ankle boots were hugging her feet. In her free right hand held what looked like a large container of gas station coffee, and she gave a small wave as she waited to be let in the door.

“You look great,” she said, an air of almost surprise that wasn't lost in Rhett's returned expression.

“I clean up good when I'm threatened with extra work hours,” Rhett replied back, his keys jingled again as he re-locked the door behind her. “Not all of us are blessed with overtime pay.”

Stevie wrinkled her small nose in response, though Rhett could tell that it was a reaction to swallowing a snarky comeback. Out of all of the people floating in and out of his work life, Stevie was one of the few that was able to poke through the stony exterior of Rhett's outer shell. They might just be hairline fractures at most, but enough to help Rhett breathe every once in a while.

The rest of the next hour was full of setting up and getting ready. Mr. Turkett seemed sure that the public would be breaking through, with money waving in their clenched hands and demanding service. Their faces pressed up against the panes of glass like some sort of strange zombie outbreak. Everyone else connected with the  _ actual  _ day to day operations knew better, of course. That the most that they would see would be a soft influx of new faces meandering in throughout the day. The expressions opened and curious, but nothing that couldn't be handled.

By the time the real first new person had entered the bank with questions about setting up an account, it was past 10:00am. The large spread of pastries and coffee still sitting mostly undisturbed, with a few items gone into the bellies of employees instead of the mouths of welcomed clientele.

Rhett greeted the older woman with a soft smile. Though he despised his role that didn't mean that he didn't know how to do his job incredibly well. Self assurance was much easier to fake in the cover of polite answers to questions. It also helped that Rhett was ruggedly handsome, with his piercing green-gray eyes and delicate smile. The beard grown out just enough to accentuate the high cheek bones and powerful neck. Then there was his southern accent that gave people the comfortable feeling that came with the slow and rhythmic cadence. The North Carolina core softly rounded off by California living. The complete package wrapped up in a three piece suit.

The lady ended up being a willing sell, already wooed by the five dollar deposit and the hatred of her previous bank. Rhett was more so just a sounding board for her bitterness, acting like a friend listening to another about a stale break up. After assisting her to with opening a checking and savings account, he moved back to his office to continue with lastFriday's work. His ears ready for the next person who would need him, whether that was staff of potential new member.

“You look like you've got the whole world on your shoulders.”

Rhett snorted at the comment, so blatantly obvious that he might as we have had it etched on his forehead. Glancing up from his work he had assumed it was one of the newer tellers needing some sort of assistance. There were at least two of the newbies who had a constant blend of confusion and fear hitched on their faces. Yet Rhett could sense his heart stop when he saw the dark haired man leaning so casually against the frame of his office door.

He definitely wasn't one of the rookies Rhett had passed by in the last half hour on his way to replenish his coffee. This man was wearing a business suit, very much like his own, but in light blue with a crisp white shirt underneath. The tie was placed carefully on his chest and jet black. His dark rimmed glasses were placed with expert care on the bridge of his nose, and his eyes -  _ god those eyes _ \- were almost an unnatural hue of electric blue. As if to accentuate the vividness of his gaze, his hair was a deep and wavy brown with what seemed like deliberate strands of silver within it. The overall picture was stunning, and Rhett could tell that he was staring, and something strange stirred within his chest. It was as if a light had switched on in a room that had been dark for way too long.

“Sorry if I caught you at a bad time,” the man said, completely misreading Rhett's reaction. “The nice young lady in front guarding the food said that you would be the person to talk to regarding a business loan.”


	3. Mr. Bedroom Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been so patient with me as I worth through this story along with my other Rhink tales. I really appreciate each and everyone of you. Comments and kudos provide encouragement! Thank you <3

Rhett wasn't the type to believe in love at first sight. That was just something danced about in fairy tales read to him when he was a child, and sappy movie plots he was forced to watch when he was much younger and much more willing to tolerate mental torture for a half decent blowjob. Yet here reposed to the side of his doorway was a dark haired man whom Rhett could imagine on long walks to the beach. Their fingers would interlace in all the correct places, and they would talk about anything and that would be just fine.

 

_ Plus there would be blowjobs. _

 

It definitely wasn't love at first sight, but an unknown pull towards the breathtaking eyes. The full pink lips parted as the grin became a lovely smile, and the right hand pulled out of his coat pocket and stretched out. The gesture insanely universal, but lost in Rhett's disconnected brain.

“Charles Neal,” the smaller man said brightly, standing still once he reached the in front of Rhett's desk. Then there was a slight quirk of the man's right eyebrow as Rhett continued to just look up and stare. “Sorry, do you...not shake hands?”

Something clicked into place and Rhett leapt up as if he was a giraffe hearing a loud noise right by his feet. Inside of his head he was silently cursing to  _ get a freaking grip _ . The larger hand took hold of the smaller hand in what Rhett truly hoped was a warm and inviting handshake, but his mind was already trying to find a way to spin this so that didn't look more like an idiot than he already was. 

“Rhett McLaughlin,” he said, pulling away from the hand and then gesturing to the empty seat next to the shorter man. “Please take a seat, and just give me a moment to get freshen up my coffee.”

The other man nodded, with the blue eyes looking over Rhett's face with a renewed sense of interest, and if anything this made Rhett's need to get out if the office for a moment even more pressing. Even if his coffee cup was still near full, lying was more important than breathing right now. Breathing was for people who didn't just have one of the most beautiful men walk into your cluttered hole of an office on a Monday. 

“Who's the hot guy in you office?”

If Rhett hadn't known Stevie to be both incredibly blunt along with not being at all interested in men, he would have bared his teeth at her. Much like a lion staking his claim, but instead he just stared, vaguely wondering if his dirty fantasies had somehow become cartoon thought bubbles floating over his head. 

Stevie laughed, her blonde hair shifting as her shoulders wiggled with barely contained mirth. The blue eyes roamed from the stunned look on her boss's face towards the slightly opened door.

“Relax,” Stevie sighed, actually placing a hand on to Rhett's broad shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “I just know your type, and that guy...he's definitely it.”

Fight or flight was usually the most automatic responses to this type of trapped feeling, and though Rhett really couldn't pin down  _ why  _ he was exactly being defensive, he sure as hell wasn't going to make Stevie's incredible ability to read him like a book too easy. So, fight or flight? Fight first, because in a chase Stevie absolutely had the footwear advantage.

“Not interested in anything but work,” Rhett muttered. His tone was as even as he could make it, though his eyes were way more interested in pouring the still perfectly good coffee down the sink and refilling it. “Besides, I'm seeing Josh, which you mess with me about practically every - "

“You and Josh are nothing but glorified bang buddies who only bother with each other because you both are too proud to go on Grindr,” Stevie said,  _ way _ too on the mark for Rhett's comfort. “And you came out that cave of solitude of yours to pretend you needed more coffee just so you didn't say anything stupid to Mr. Bedroom Eyes in there.”

For the second time in less than three minutes she had practically looked inside his mind and saw every one of his fleeting desires. Why the hell was she wasting this talent in banking?

“Look,” she continued, her gaze laser focused as Rhett tried find a way to just evaporate on the spot. “You're a handsome, funny and charming guy who deserves to have something more than an occasional romp with your roommate. At least this guy knows how to dress.”

Part of Rhett wanted to remind Stevie that his sex life was none of her business, but a much bigger part of him was desperately wondering how Mr. Charles Neal looked with way less clothes on. Granted, his motivations were obscenely physical, but Rhett couldn't help that the man sitting so casually in his office was practically poured into that suit. 

“You're thinking about him naked,” Stevie smirked, her elbow nudging his right side. “I  _ knew _ it.”

Rhett glared at her which did nothing but have her smiling even larger. Just paint her the right shade of purple and place some fuzzy ears on the top her head and she would be a dead ringer for a Cheshire cat. 

Not wanting to give her any more satisfaction, Rhett zipped away from the coffee area, new mug of brew steaming innocently enough in his slightly shaky hand. Apparently flight was the option he was going to go with after all. 

“Remember to smile,” Stevie's voice called after him, and luckily it was busy enough in the bank that no one took notice of what she said. Rhett grumbled under his breath, but placed what he hoped was a natural grin on his lips as he pushed open the door back to his office.

“Sorry about the wait,” he said, and silently hoped that his gorgeous visitor didn't think that he was trying to avoid him. Rhett was doing just that, but no one else needed to know this. Thankfully, Rhett was greeted with the very same warmth that had been radiating from around Charles Neal like some sort of invisible and portable sunshine.

“No problem at all,” and then with a small point to the wall behind Rhett he added, “Gave me time to reminisce about North Carolina State. Went there myself.”

Rhett gave a little jolt as he turned as well towards the back wall to see his college diploma, looking slightly dusty but still proudly displayed. The large print testifying to a time so long ago that it was hard to connect it to the man that he had become. 

“Must have just missed each other,” the dark haired man chuckled. “We’re about the same age, and I studied engineering too.”

At this point Rhett was prepared to hear that this stunning man was also secretly a next door neighbor as well, with so many connection points already. Small world or not, Rhett might start believing in destiny at any moment.

“I should have recognized the accent,” Rhett replied, his coffee now forgotten as he leaned his elbows on the table. “Should have known North Carolina would follow me no matter what.”

“Sounds like you were running’ away from it, Mr. McLaughlin.”

Rhett peered into the blue gaze, the faintest twinkle of something mischievous, and almost dangerous right under the surface. This was not helping his dirty thoughts. At all.

“What if I was?”

The other man shifted in the seat, his index finger and thumb placed on the right side of the dark framed glasses and adjusting them slightly. That lopsided grin that was doing things to Rhett's chest that should probably be illegal. 

“Then this conversation just got a  _ whole _ lot more interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the lovely and talented fanbabble for betareading this chapter. I could not have done this without you!


	4. Flirting Can Be Bad for Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always welcomed if you are enjoying the story!

At some point, Rhett would recall this moment in his memory. The smaller details were lost, but the choice that he made to open up his soul to a man  he just had met, was absolutely reckless. Yet here he was, about to confess a part of himself because something deeper within him said that he needed to.

“My family loves me, but they don't really like me.”

Rhett gave a small huff as he leaned back in his seat, finally deciding that alcohol would be a much better liquid inside of his mug. Too bad the bank frowned on this.

“Sounds like a problem that  _ they _ should work on, and not you.”

A deep chuckle erupted in the middle of Rhett's chest, and Charles Neal's blue eyes widened just enough to be noticed. This man knew nothing about Rhett's past, and he was already defending Rhett's actions like he had been his best pal all his life.

“Maybe,” Rhett conceded, “Just better off here then there. Still talk to them, and every few years I find my way back to my childhood bedroom to get a few hugs and tolerate a whole lot of questions.”

There was a hum of understanding from across the desk. It crept up into Rhett's chest and settled there, creating a warmth that shouldn't exist after only ten minutes. Barriers made from solid foundation that were getting eaten away by such unnatural eyes.

“Families can cause you more grief than anything,” Charles sighed, his chin tilted downwards for just a moment, before he lifted it back up to grace Rhett with a smile again. “Left behind a few bad memories myself.”

There was a stare that seemed to go not only through Rhett, but beyond the middle distance. As if the dark haired man was playing images of his youth inside of his mind and reevaluating everything up until that very second. Then a small shake of the his head, as if nothing had occurred at all.

“So, the uncomfortable past aside,” Rhett said, his spine and limbs tingling with more than just idle nerves, “How can my bank help you today?”

It was an abrupt change in topic, but Rhett decided to at least attempt to steer the conversation towards something at least a little more familiar. It was one thing to casually flirt in the late morning hours, where a small amount of sleep and not enough coffee could give a great cover story if needed. Family drama though, was quite a different situation.

“I'm finally deciding to put my engineering degree to the test,” Charles answered easily. “I've somehow gotten enough good will and satisfied clients to feel brave the field on my own. Trying to get a small business loan. Nothing too crazy, mind you. Heard that National USA Bank is a great place for getting this done. Wasn't planning on coming in today specifically but, with the advertisements every place I looked, well...I took it as a sign that I should finally stop in.”

Rhett tilted his head slightly, the right eyebrow quirked in just the right way.

“There's no need to lie to me.”

The grin disappeared off the smaller man's face.

“I happen to have it on good authority it's the cookies and coffee that ropes people in. The rest is just for show, Mr. Neal.”

The other man blinked a few times, seeming not to know what to make of this joke. Rhett's sense of humor could be as dry as the Sierra Desert, and leave the people who came across it either bristling with annoyance or rippled with confusion. Thankfully, Charles Neal was not one of these types of people. Within a few moments the glasses were off and Rhett was greeted with yet another fit of hushed giggles.

His laugh was the only thing worth clinging on to, and Rhett was already addicted.

“Fine, you caught on to me,” Charles said, still somewhat breathless. “I came here just for the free stuff.” He tapped on the edge of his briefcase on the floor. “Completely empty so I can take everything I can and then make a run for it.”

Laughter shouldn't come this easy, but here it is. Relaxed and as casual as if There has know this man for years. Even now, with each additional question, Rhett can't help himself but absorb each subtle lick of the bottom lip when Charles needed a moment more to recall answer. The way his fingers brush across the front of his forehead. How Rhett longed to be able to know how it felt to touch the lightly tanned skin. What those eyes fluttering opened after just the perfect kiss.

“I think that's all the information we need from you today,” Rhett said, after finishing up. “Your credit and financial earnings are exceptionally good.”

“So does that mean that you approve of me, Mr. McLaughlin?”

Rhett gulped, and yet another lopsided grin appeared. The smaller hand brushed a piece of lint off of Rhett's right shoulder as he left the office.

“I look forward to seeing you soon,” and with a wink Rhett was alone to figure out how in the world to focused on anything but Charles Neal again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to fanbabble for continuing to be such an amazing beta reader! ❤️


	5. A Shift in Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and big shout out to my beta fanbabble!

It was always hard for Rhett to stop wanting something when he started. It was just the competitive side of himself that he couldn't let go of since he was young. The biggest fish had to be caught. The highest grades had to be made. The best looking girl on his arm, and then when he got bolder -  _ and older _ \- the occasional boy. Maybe that's why his mind was documenting every single interaction he had with Charles Neal. The way he would laugh at particular jokes. The fact that he  _ absolutely _ had a flirty nature that caused Rhett actual goosebumps on his arms.

_ Thank god for long sleeved shirts. _

The passing conversations were expected when trying for a loan. It was  _ perfectly _ normal to have over an hour worth of chatting in what should only take about ten minutes tops. None of the other employees took notice of this. Well, except for Stevie, but she was akin to a blonde bloodhound. Her small nose sniffing out the pregnant pauses and lingering looks to a specific brunette man's backside. Her knowing smirk would be the death of Rhett, if Mr. Neal's amazing laugh didn't kill him off first.

“You should just finally go ahead and do it.”

Stevie had cornered him in his office. Her lanky body somehow was able to block the only escape route from his office. Dressed is fitted jeans and brand new sneakers, again she would have been able to outrun him even if he had tried to make a break for it anyway.

“Do what?” Rhett said, pretending not to know where this inevitable discussion was going.

_ Do what  _ Stevie silently mouthed his question.

“Ask him out on a date,” she continued, counter arguments already on standby.

“I don't date clients,” Rhett grumbled back, though his burning cheeks were giving him away. He had thought about it. Sure he had, but more in a fantasy land where he had much more nerve and much less nose hair. Charles was sweet and funny, but was way out of Rhett’s league.

“Pretty sure you said the same thing about roommates too, but situations change.”

That was uncalled for, truthful or not.

“What Josh and I are doing is sure as hell not dating,” Rhett grunted, his fingers typing up a final email before he headed home. Keeping his eyes on the lit screen helped him to block the skeptical expression radiating off of one of the only people who could always call him out on his bullshit.

“Fine, I'll let off, but - ”

“But nothing. I'm not losing my professional reputation over anyone, Stevie. No matter if my libido has other ideas.”

There was the sound of tennis shoes turn and walk away. Part of Rhett couldn't help but feel annoyed by her giving up so quickly. Then again, Stevie had his phone number and his address. There was always the chance that this was a tactical retreat.

Fridays were always a toss up. He and Josh  _ did _ have an arrangement, but the  _ let's see how things end up  _ was the vibe that was always present. Their sexual escapades more about logistics than actual plans. Still there was a small amount of structure despite both of them trying to keep it painfully casual. Josh usually worked on Friday nights, coming home around 1:00am and heading directly to the fridge. Alcohol was always available, in the form of bottles of high end imported beers to expensive wines given to him as random appreciation for surviving another week.

Liquor was better than any small talk, and whether it was Josh stumbling into Rhett's arms after an hour or so after he returned home, or Rhett sliding in with him in the hallway shower, the sex was fast and breathless. With just enough satisfaction to keep either one from masturbating too much to be considered unfortunate.

_ That was before Charles Neal. _

Now the kisses pressed against Rhett's lips were full of imagery of a man with hauntingly beautiful blue eyes and ebony hair. The heated breaths barely holding back a different name other than Josh. Occasionally it seemed that Josh would notice the change. His browline furrowed and jaw somewhat tight as Rhett carefully nuzzled his neck while he unzipped his roommate's pants.

“Hey, you have a sec to talk before you head off?”

Sunday morning had snuck up on the both of them. Rhett had been sure that Josh would sleep through his maneuvering out of his bed.

“Yeah. What is it?”

There was no anger or sadness in the younger man's eyes, but instead a sort of stoic resignation.

“It's weird,” Josh began, the smile soft and relaxed. “I honestly thought it would be me first.”

Rhett could sense himself frowning, but didn't know what to say. Still he opened his mouth to try, but Josh was already waving the excuses away before Rhett could form them.

“You don't owe me any reasons or apologies. It was nice while it lasted, but I'm not going to come between whoever makes you smile the way you have lately. When you don't think I'm watching. Someone that can…”

Josh gave a chuckle, then shook his head as he looked up into Rhett's face again.

“I've never seen you look so...connected with the world. Someone at your job?”

So it wasn't just Stevie that could see right through him. When did Rhett's emotions get so easy to spot? Did he send off some sort of pining pheromone that everyone but himself could smell?

Taking his silence for agreement, Josh shuffled out of his bed, still naked and slightly pink from what was to be the last time Rhett would see him like this. The muscles and tanlines already fading from his memories. Then a hug that told him that so much in such a small amount of time.

_ This was nice. This is over. _

In some tiny way there was relief about this ending. What he had with Josh was like keeping an old pair of shoes past their prime. Held onto because they're soft and have bent to comfortable shape, but always waiting for them to finally fall apart. Then when they do of course there's sadness, but now. He can finally move to something that fits.

Still Rhett didn’t sleep. The failure of even being involved in what could at most been a fling made his chest contract so much that he barely thought about Charles Neal that night. What the first time in a very long while was only  _ his _ warmth. Tomorrow would be another day towards another countdown to Friday, but this week would be different. Josh was right. Stevie was right. Rhett needed to make a move.

_ Professional reputation be damned. _


	6. Anticipation Makes for a Great Aphrodisiac

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and kudos! They make me work twice as hard! ❤️

A groan had left Rhett’s mouth when he padded over to see who was calling his phone at 8:45am the next morning. Mr. Turkett’s name flashed on his screen with a silent urgency for him to explain why the hell he was running late. It had been Rhett’s fault. The alarm wasn’t even set last night. Apparently his mind had been more preoccupied with the not-really-a-breakup situation with Josh than he had first realized.

“I know sir. On the way. Overslept.”

“What?” the voice on the other line asked. The tone more terse than normal. More agitated. “No, don’t worry about that. Stevie got the doors opened up. Wanted to make sure that you get your fingerprint scans done for the new security system that’s being installed later today.”

Rhett bit back the annoyed grunt. Mr. Turkett had been droning on and on about new security measures throughout all of the branches. Some state of the art design that was supposed to keep the vaults within the back as safe as possible. Rhett had only been half listening in the past as the older man had gone on and on about thumbprints and Hollywood movies. Indirectly Rhett had been delaying the inevitable large devices and smiling salesmen rolling into his world. His boss, however,  was making sure that  _ everyone _ was going to be pushed into cutting edge technology. Whether Rhett wanted to or not.

“Yes, I’ll be there at about 10 at the latest.”

“Good. Good. Just text me afterwards and let me know how things went.”

The call disconnected without even a goodbye, and Rhett finished getting dressed. Sensible khakis and a polo. Even with the harrassed phone call though, he couldn’t help but smile a bit. Charles Neal would be there later today to wrap up his approval for his business loan, and right after all the signatures and documents were taken care of, Rhett would be asking him out for lunch. Or perhaps dinner would be better?

The set of glass doors were pushed open and Stevie glanced up from her desk and gave Rhett a slightly odd expression. Rhett ignored it for now, already knowing that she would be poking her head into his office before the end of the day to start her line of questioning. In the meantime he busied himself with emails and follow up phone calls. Then tried his best not to grimace too much when the security company came to start working on the upgrades to the vault, and repeatedly had Rhett press his thumb to the scanner to make sure that everything registered correctly.

The parade of appointments began promptly at 2:30pm. Most of them wrap up work for mortgages and CODs. Each customer in various states of excitement and worry. Thankfully Mr. Neal would be his last appointment of the day, and Rhett found himself staring at the clock like it had personally wronged him. The soft knock at the door had him finally steadying his nerves until he saw what Charles was wearing today.

Dressed almost daringly casual in tight blue jeans and a black graphic t shirt with a vintage Star Wars logo on the front. His dark hair brushed slightly off to the side and his eyeglasses firmly on the bridge of his nose. The same lopsided grin that Rhett had  seen in all of his nighttime fantasies. The captivating blue eyes and soft pink lips.

“Guess it’s time to sign my life away?”

Rhett laughed as he gave the smaller man a firm handshake, and what Rhett could have sworn was another little wink. Charles was subtle in that way. Teetering on the edge of flirtation like some well trained tightrope walker. The sideway glances and the way his fingers would run through his shining hair. It was this easy going sex appeal that made Rhett need to at least  _ try _ to ask about dinner. Yes, dinner would be the better choice.

“There’s only a couple of documents left,” Rhett mentioned as he pushed the paperwork across the table. “After that the money for your brand new loan should be deposited into your business account by the middle of next week.”

Mr. Neal hummed that he understood, his thumb and index finger meeting with the right side of his glasses to adjust them once more. Then with a quick read he grabbed the pen on the desk and signed on the dotted lines.

“Now that’s over,” Charles said brightly. “Would you mind if I ask you a small favor, Mr. McLaughlin?”

“Rhett,” Rhett corrected, “And it really would depend on what the favor is.”

There was that same smile Charles wore, yet this time there was an air of something vaguely kinetic. The type of quiet energy that made Rhett’s legs feel even more restless than usual. The back of his throat tighten. His palms sweat.

In a fluid motion Rhett watched as Mr. Neal stood up. The slightest hint of his toned lower belly flashed as he adjusted his shirt, and then walked a few measured steps to around the desk where Rhett still sat. It was nothing too out of the ordinary. There were lots of times where many people would walk behind his desk. Mostly to whisper a word or two about an upcoming meeting, or drop off a note or a cup of coffee. Even Charles himself had done this before. His manner delightfully oblivious to the heat of his closeness. Head tilted down when he and Rhett would talk about anything. College. Favorite restaurants. Anything.

The faint aroma of what Rhett had learned was Charles’ aftershave found his nose. The scent masculine, with a slightly floral undertone. Rhett's nostrils flared as he inhaled it. Charles was moving towards him. Rhett wasn't technically trapped. His large plush office chair had wheels. It would only take a small push from his legs to roll away, but still he felt somewhat cornered.

“What's the favor?” Rhett repeated. His voice was hoarse and whispered, like he had spent the entire day screaming.

Rhett felt his chest tighten at a new reason to admire Charles Neal. He had always been just out of reach until this instance. A desk or the respect of personal space always between them. Now however, he was so close that Rhett could see that the jarring blue eyes were hiding yet another layer of beauty within them. Around the crystal storm of sky was a band of midnight sapphire. It created a forcefield to hold the lighter shade of wondrous color at bay. As if even this man's own body realized the danger of their unleashed power. Inches away from Rhett's tingling mouth before Charles spoke again.

“Hold on tight.”

Their lips met in a scorching kiss that burst something in Rhett core. Like a flash fire that started from the top of his head and coursed through his splayed fingers and curling toes. Charles was everything that Rhett needed that he never knew was missing. He felt like he was being inhaled from the inside out. That Charles was both rescuing and suffocating him.

A rush of hazy words that were  _ there _ .  _ Just there _ . On the tip of his tongue, and this man was trying to help find them. Charles’ fingers and palms were surging upwards. Under the folds of Rhett's collared shirt and finding new homes on his shoulder blades and spine. Rhett moaned against the lips. Lips  _ way _ softer than he had imagined, and as if Charles knew this he pressed even harder. Demanded more entry for a place that Rhett had already given him the key. Electric blue eyes gazed behind dark lashes as Rhett’s stomach twisted. Overwhelmed at the way he was being taken. As if he was a long sought after prize that had finally been won.

“Oh god,” Charles gasped, resting their foreheads together. Hands cupped Rhett’s face and strong thumbs played with his beard. His legs shifted to anchor himself in Rhett’s lap. Bodies flushed and aching.  The blue eyes seemed to forget where they were. That he had straddled himself in a office chair that hopefully would be able to deal with the strain of the combined weight of two.

Rhett looked up. Concerned that Charles had changed his mind. In a whirl of sound, color and a painful erection. That his heart wouldn’t be able to handle a fleeting moment of connection to devastation. Charles pulled back, and relaxed at Rhett's large hand in the small of his back. As if making yet another way to keep them as one.

“What are...is this...please…”

Rhett's head went blank. Leaving him alone not knowing what he was about to ask. Then his unhelpful mind caught up and the rest of his sentences rolled around his skull.

_ What are you doing? _

_ Is this still okay? _

_ Please don't leave. _

“Tell me you felt that too.”

Charles sounded wrecked, and Rhett loved it. The self composure momentarily gone. Slender chest heaving and lips swollen red.

Rhett couldn't answer. His brain was still processing. The atmosphere both moving too fast and way too slowly. So instead he lifted his hand and pulled off the last barrier. The glasses needed to be off. A far away sound of them being placed on the desk. Then it was Rhett's turn to explore.

He started by placing a chaste kiss on the the large Adam's apple. It was something he had wanted to do the first time he had watched it bob up and down when he had asked Charles a complex question the first time he had walked into his office.

Vibrations as Charles enjoyed Rhett's decision. Allowing -  _ begging _ \- for Rhett to discover every plain of his neck and face. Their bodies flushed, all while Rhett groaned as his own hands were grabbed around the wrists and pushed down to find Charles' perky ass. Rhett squeezed and could have bathed in the muffled  _ fuck  _ that passed through Charles’ perfect mouth.

They were grinding, holding, thrusting. If someone opened the door right now there was no excuse to be made that would call this anything but what it was. Rhett had hoped for  _ at most _ a dinner filled with nervous laughter and some awkward silences. Yet here he was. Nothing but simmering reactions to a stunning creature who was breaking him apart bit by bit. Shattering the stones of his heart and replacing them with living tissue once more.

_ Maybe that's why his chest hurt. _

Their rolling torsos were becoming more measured, and they both broke away and inhaled. Enough breath to stop the room from spinning. Enough to know that neither one of them wanted to stop, but had to. For now.

“So...dinner?” Charles whispered, adjusting his shirt and stepping off of Rhett's lap.

Rhett blinked. He looked up, and stared, mouth slightly opened.

“Yeah. Yeah...dinner would be nice.”

Charles giggled, and placed a quick kiss on Rhett's right cheek before he began to leave. His jeans slightly tighter than before, but for the most part he looked composed.

“You have all my information,” he called out over his left shoulder. “My place at 8:30pm. See you then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by the lovely fanbabble.


	7. Texting Can be Hazardous to your Mental State

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is leaving comments and kudos. Tags have been updated. Don't look at them if you don't want possible spoilers! 😉

The door closed behind Charles and Rhett was left alone. Well, not  _ entirely _ alone if you counted his throbbing erection. Any particular ideas or thoughts that he had before being captured by the touch, taste and smell of Mr. Charles L. Neal had been wiped away. Almost deleted as he tried his best to get a grasp in the last ten minutes of his life. The same four words bouncing around loose and whimsical within his muddled brain.

_ Well, that just happened. _

Even though Charles had probably left the bank, he still lingered in Rhett’s now scorching office. The heated feeling of his body on Rhett’s lap. The wispy tones of his aftershave on Rhett’s collar. The slight mark made by his glasses on Rhett’s shiny desk. He lifted his hand to his hairline. Ruffled and sex starved. Licked his lips. The slight taste of some sort of peppermint chapstick. Twisted his aching lower back in his chair. Totally worth it.

He already missed him. That made no sense, so Rhett shook out that possibility. No, he was geared up. Horny. Begging for human touch like he had been with Josh. It didn’t matter that his mind had already gone into battle mode. Deciding the best ways to charm Charles from the dinner table and into his bed. No. He needed to pump the brakes on his sex drive before it careened out of control. The ride would be spectacular, but so would the crash.

There was more to Charles than eyes and lips and -  _ dear lord _ \- that amazing ass. He was thoughtful and funny. Mysterious and alluring in the ways that seemed almost forbidden and wrong. Holy hell, but wrong in all of the  _ right _ ways. The ways that made Rhett not give a damn if he was the one thrusting or being invaded. The ways that would have him on his knees and worshipping Charles. Making him giggle in delight and hum in satisfaction.

_ These ideas were not helping his erection. _

He needed to calm down, so he breathed until everything in his mind and body softened. The very last thing that he needed was Stevie’s sixth sense to be activated and her racing into his office with that knowing smile that he knew too well. He would fold like a cheap suit with her pointed questions. Her eyebrows would raise at the confession of her boss humping a client with only one thin wall between them. It would be something out of a well worn porno plot. She wouldn’t let him live it down. He would be on his deathbed fifty years from now and Stevie would be holding his hand, her golden blonde hair now a dusty silver and tied up in a severe bun. The wrinkles just as pronounced as the steady smirk on her lips as she would whisper that at least he  _ went _ for it for once in his goddamn life, and she was proud.

Luckily Stevie didn’t get a chance to sniff out his apprehension or guilt. The last hour at the bank was slammed with customers. All trying their best to get paychecks cashed and deposited. Paying their car notes and house bills. Rhett was floored by how defiantly typical the Friday was. Especially after what had just happened. The world should be at  _ least _ slightly tilted. Nothing too major, but enough of a slant for people to wonder if they needed new glasses, or to check on their inner ear.

The last ten minutes had Rhett clearing up his office with almost painstaking detail. Like it was some sort of sexy crime scene, and he had to hide the evidence of his earlier appointment with Mr. Neal. He hadn’t actually climaxed in any sort of physical way, yet he wondered why he didn’t have fucking luminol like he saw in television shows? That way he would be able to more thoroughly cover his tracks.

It would have to do for now. The night cleaners would be there, and they didn’t need to be confused as to why his office was so clean that every surface could hold a ten course meal. Lastly, Rhett checked the signed papers for Charles’ address and phone number, then saved them into his phone. The text was sent after Rhett had squeezed himself into his car and turned on the engine. It felt safer there. One step removed.

**(5:38pm) It’s Rhett. I’ll see you in a few hours.**

He placed his phone in the charging dock in the middle console and pulled off. His heart was hammering as everything around him took on a brighter glow than it ever had before. The usual trappings of LA traffic seemed miniscule with the level of happiness that seemed to be buzzing within his insides. Making his skin sizzle in the heated evening sun as for the first time in ages he turned on the radio and didn’t care if his voice was out of tune and caused people in the cars near him to stare. He almost felt sorry for them. They were still carrying chips on their shoulders the size of mountains, while he was lighter than air.

As usual the apartment was empty when he got home. Friday was the only day that Josh would have to get to the restaurant early enough to prep. This was fine as well. The last thing that he wanted was to have the man he had been casually sleeping with to see the twinkle in his eyes. Josh had essentially given Rhett his blessing to pursue Charles, but still it seemed tacky to indirectly rub his first date in his face.

Rhett already had a place in mind to take Charles to tonight. They had too many conversations about their favorite foods for Rhett not to have been taking mental notes. Thai and comfort foods were high on the list for both of them, and Rhett knew a couple of perfect places very near each other. Of course he would let Charles make the final call.

He plugged his phone and placed it on the end table in the bedroom, and headed into his private shower. It made him chuckle to think that this was the second time today that he hadn’t used the hallway bathroom to wash. Perhaps since he and Josh were no longer sliding out of each other’s beds it made sense to naturally separate in as many ways as they could. Actually being just roommates for a change was odd, but now with everything that had happened, it was needed to stake claim on what was now his and Josh’s private spaces.

Music played while he showered and changed. The twangy sounds of Brooks and Dunn moved around the water and his ears as he swayed, naked and smiling at absolutely nothing. This was a nice way to be. This felt like seeing the clear sky for the first time in so many years of being safely underground.

Steam collected on the mirror and Rhett’s large right hand wiped enough of it away to see his reflection. Cheeks red from the heat and hair flopped down heavily over his browline. It would take at least half an hour to dry properly and style, so he grabbed an extra towel and began to speed up the process. He needed to check what time it was anyway.

The only clock he had was on his phone, and picking it up he was startled by two things. The fact that over an hour had gone by, and he needed to pick up the pace so that he wasn’t late for his meet up with Charles. The second thing was a text alert with the name  _ Charles _ as the sender.

**(6:59pm) Sorry. Have to cancel. Something came up. Make it up to you. Promise.**

It was over that quickly, and the speed of it all made Rhett’s knees feel weak in a way that he hadn’t expected. He shouldn’t be  _ this _ disappointed, but still his body was going through the emotions of sudden, ripping heartbreak. People break off dates all of the time, he tried to tell the tightened feeling in his lungs. This was nobody’s fault, and it wasn’t as if Charles had told him to  _ Take a hike _ or  _ Don’t call me, I’ll call you _ , or any other type of silly vernacular for  _ I don’t like you enough to be seen with you out in public _ .

Still it hurt way too much to make Rhett be able to convince himself that the pain in his chest had to be heartburn. That he had been holding onto the pulsing thrill of Charles’ lips onto his opened mouth since they rutted their groins and hips. That he had woken up from the dream that he had been living for only a few hours. Sleep should be longer than that. He should have had more time to prepare for it ending before it really began.

Almost willing the words within the text to rearrange into something more hopeful, Rhett stared at the screen of his phone. The same words, retold with different inflections and tones. Should he send a text back? It had been over a half an hour since Charles had sent it. Was he waiting for some sort of response? Was Rhett still finding a way to screw this up without even trying?

**(7:34pm) It’s ok. Things happen. Let me know what days work for you next week?**

It was way more relaxed and casual than Rhett felt, but it would do for now. He draped on his bed still in his bath towel. His hair slowly air dried as he settled down for a Friday evening at home. Part of him wondered if he should replay earlier today in his mind. Sex wasn’t going to happen tonight, but he still could enjoy rubbing one out while thinking about Charles’ lips on his dick. It wasn’t a perfect situation, but a fairly good substitution.  

By Sunday late afternoon with no reply back, Rhett started to panic. The type of panic that makes an otherwise rational adult want to drive by the home address of their crush like a crazy stalker. He didn't do this, of course. There was still a possibility that Charles wasn't ignoring or avoiding him. They weren't dating. Charles owed him nothing.

It was too quiet in his apartment. Josh had gotten home at some point that morning and had stumbled into his bedroom by the loud thumps and high pitched curses. Rhett hadn't wanted to be slightly jealous of the fact that Josh had been gone since Friday night. No text or call from him either. Did  _ everyone _ have to be a fucking asshole?

The only one who had reached out to Rhett the entire weekend had been Stevie. Her short text of  _ Are you okay? You left work in such a hurry  _ was too involved to answer. He would find a solid response on Monday. Maybe just talk to her about it person. She would reach up and pat him on the shoulder. Her support bending in whatever way Rhett seemed need to spin it. With encouraging words to be patient, or agreeing that Charles probably sucked in bed anyway.

Monday morning came at a snail's pace. It was alarming at how Friday's afternoon had been almost oversaturated with glee compared to the muted tones that greeted Rhett's eyes on his way to the car for the first day of the new week. The traffic just as clogged and frustrated. Even his usual coffee tasted too bitter no matter how many sugars he put in it.

He stopped checking his phone. What was the point of feeling that same punch in the gut every single time he saw the few lines of text under Charles’ name? He wanted to yell at him. Throw accusations that had no real weight behind them. He wanted to see what Charles looked like when he apologized. The hurt and awareness behind the startling blue eyes. That perfect Cupid's bow of a mouth slightly trembling as he waited for Rhett to forgive him. And yes, Rhett would of course forgive him. Life gets in the way of romance sometimes. They would hug and all would be better again. Rhett blinked, and he was suddenly aware that the woman in front of him had stopped speaking.

“Are you going to answer my question, young man?”

He did. Eventually. After she had to repeat her entire life story to him again.

Lunch consisted of a sandwich and chips from the deli down the block. Stevie had only wanted a fruit salad, which Rhett teased her about. She stuck out her tongue in response, and pointedly asked if they could talk a bit later. That was fine. He owed her some sort of reason as to why he never texted her back on Sunday. He had actually worked out how to talk to her about Charles. Actually wanted her advice as to how to approach everything. But at 2:22pm on the dot, the glass front doors of the bank branch opened with a thunderous noise. All faces, including Rhett’s stared at four men dressed all in black with ski masks on their heads and obnoxiously large guns in their gloved hands.

The tallest man called out, as if making an announcement at some sort of fundraiser.

“Happy Monday to you lot!” He said cheerily. The light airy quality of his voice coupled by a clipped British accent as he watched bank staff and customers start to grasp what was happening to them. “This is going to go smooth and easy like, as long as everyone does what their told. Don’t like bloodshed or wasted time.”

He tilted his head to two of the men on his right side who rushed in, guns pointed to make sure that the message was clear. Armed. Dangerous. Focused.

“All employees walk around the service counters,” one of the other men barked. “Anyone sounds any silent alarms and shit will get a lot more complicated. Everyone else on the ground, with hands where we can see them!”

Rhett moved away from small table where he had been signing in a new client. He had not dealt with a bank robbery first hand, but he had training for it. The need to keep everyone as safe as possible was his only goal. His eyes flickered to Stevie, who had her hands up along with everyone else and looked terrified. The man who had demanded the employees in front of their stations had a deeper voice than the British man, but just as full of authority. The shortest man didn’t speak, but gestured to the clients who were now on the floor to put their cell phones in a large black bag that was being passed around. He was watching them like a hawk.

“Gather the cash out of the tills, blondie,” the British man snapped, looking right at Stevie. “No funny business with dye packs either, love. Cost a bloody fortune for dry cleaning in LA.”

Stevie nodded as she was handed an identical black duffel bag that was being used for the cell phones. The lone man still at the entrance was heavier set and seemed like bullets could bounce off of his pectoral muscles if needed. Obviously he was watching the door.

The short man slide the bag full of phones over towards the larger man, then made his way over to where Stevie was. Clearly he was going to make sure that she didn’t do anything stupid. Rhett silently willed Stevie to just do what they wanted. Just give them what they wanted so they would leave.

“Thank you all for being so reasonable,” the British man said kindly. “We’ll be gone in just a few more ticks. Just one more task to complete, and it’ll almost be like we were never here. Sounds all a plan?”

A few people quickly nodded, their eyes averted.

That sounded like a great plan. Rhett could get behind this plan. They were going to make it out alive. He could feel his heart slowing down just enough to no longer be stuck in his throat. Hell, he wasn’t even angry at Charles anymore. It’s strange how a brush with real danger can help you put unanswered text messages in perspective.

“All right then,” the British man chuckled as he pointed his gun straight at Rhett’s head as he advanced. “Come on, big man. You and I have a pressing engagement with the vault in the back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thank you to the awesome fanbabble for a rapid beta read! ❤️


	8. There are Better Ways to Spend a Workday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for your comments, kudos and patience as I continue this story!

It helped to make a mental checklist of everything. In case Rhett survived long enough to tell the police, or hopefully even longer. Plus it gave his racing mind something to hold onto. To stop the wave of increased panic from settling painful in the middle of his chest, and muscles of his calves and thighs.

_ Guns: Four. AR-15. Black. _

_ Assailants: Four men. White. _

“Lets go,” the British man said. He shifted his gun point towards the back of the building. Apparently he knew the layout of the bank. More information for Rhett to store away for later.

Rhett kept his hands up as they moved. His feet made deliberate steps with a quick remembrance of the training that he wished he had paid more attention to at his yearly management updates. The soft noises of conversations met his ears as they headed into the darkness of the long hallway. The only people who came down here were Rhett and on the rare occasion, Mr. Turkett.

The man behind him was keeping a slight distance. Making sure that Rhett didn't try to act like a hero. Like Rhett would be able to even think about doing something so stupid. It was clear that these men were professionals. It could be seen in the way that they swept across each area that they traveled. The ski masks and dark sweaters and pants explaining more than any words that they could have said to the terrified faces who were all doing exactly every single thing that they told them to do.

_ White male. Brown eyes. British accent. Strands of blonde hair pressed around the right eye area of ski mask. Too yellow in color. Might be dyed, or a wig? _

More data whirled from the behind Rhett’s eyes to the front of his memory. Pushed every inch of information that he could muster without giving off suspicion. He had to keep his face blank and his voice even. The man on his heels seemed like the relaxed type, but there was no way of really knowing what he could become if triggered by a sudden reaction.

_ Keep calm. Keep calm. _

The vault was deceptively placed at the side of the furthest wall in the back of the building. The thick metal door only large enough to allow one person in at a time. There wasn't anything of tremendous value in it. Bank notes and some higher end safety deposit boxes. Within a moment of their stopping a identical black bag to the other ones being used were placed into Rhett’s hands.

“In and out,” the robber breathed. “Pull out the contents of boxes 95 and 132. Throw a few trinkets that you think would fetch a pretty penny while you're at it too.”

Rhett lips turned into the beginnings of a frown, but nodded that he understood. Then he pressed his thumb into the groove for the scanner and the door opened with a heavy sound.

“I’m not sure what you would think is considered a trinket,” Rhett admitted, doing his best to not sound sarcastic. He kept his face angled to the door and not the person beside him.

The masked man gave another chuckle and then a shrug.

“Dunno, mate...just surprise me.”

The interior of the vault was brightly lit and covered in small cameras. They whirled as they captured Rhett slowly pressing correct buttons to open up security boxes 95 and 132. The contents were nothing that made sense, at least from what Rhett could tell at the moment. A large packet of documents with words that Rhett could tell weren’t in English, and what seemed to be a very heavy gold watch that seemed to not be ticking. Then with a small twist of his hips he shifted over to box 92 where he had just placed a large diamond ring from Mrs. Applegate a few days before. Hopefully that would be a good enough trinket to keep the man right outside of the door and his accomplices satisfied. He placed all of the items into the bag.

“Nice,” the Englishman said, almost kindly. His covered head leaned in just enough to see that Rhett had finished. “Now step outside and close the door. Pull out each of the items out of the bag so I can see them.”

Rhett complied. His footsteps light as he left the vault and closed the heavy door and heard the beeps and clicks of it locking back. Then with the bag still opened he pulled out each and every object collected. The dark eyes of the robber narrowed at each piece, but then widened his gaze at the diamond ring.

“You take directions well,” he mused. The movement around the bottom of the mask made Rhett realize that he must be receiving a smile.

There was a exhale of breath that Rhett didn’t connect that he had been holding until that moment. The hidden grin grew larger. Or so it seemed. Then with a nod Rhett turned around and headed back to the front of the bank. He kept his head straight, but with small darts of his eyes to the right and left he caught glimpses of bank patrons still huddled on the floor. The larger set man at the glass door tighten the grip on his gun. The smallest man had his ear resting against what looked like a flip mobile phone and listening to something, or someone on the other end. The last man reopening one of the three black duffel bags resting by his booted feet.

The three men all waited until Rhett and the fourth man and he stopped near the edge or the teller’s counter by the exit. The British man was definitely the leader in Rhett’s mind at this point. The way that he commanded the space that he was in there was no doubt of this anymore. There was a sharp movement and Rhett almost jumped as the head of this group tossed his gun over to the larger man at the door. He caught it easily in his left hand. This was the first action that caused Rhett to know there was more that was about to happen. Why in the hell would this man who had made such a point of brandishing his weapon just throw it away so casually? Then the gloved hands grabbed around Rhett’s right bicep, and Rhett felt his blood turn cold.

“Thank you again for your rapt attention and generous cooperation,” the British man called out happily. “Now, if you all would be dears and not press any alarm buttons or dive for the phone in the bag in the middle of the floor until that lovely young lady in the red blouse count to one hundred?”

With a start, Stevie realized that it was her that he was talking about. She made a small sound of understanding, and the glass door opened. Rhett watched as the three other masked men headed out of the front. Each with a bag in hand and sprinted in opposite directions. Rhett felt a small pressing of fingers as he was being pulled along.

“Come on, gorgeous,” the British man whispered. “You didn’t think I was done with you, did you love?”

Rhett’s heart was hammering like a bass drum. His brain was having trouble pushing away the shock to figure out what was happening until he was already out of the door. One hand still holding his arm as firm as possible while the other hand splayed against the small of his back. The bright sunlight hit his face and it helped throw him back into the present. Out of the shock.

_ Hostage. I’m a fucking hostage. _

He had to do something to stop this. It was one thing to not try to fight because of other people getting hurt, or when there were guns in his face. It was quite another when the man shoving him along to what looked like a black car off to the side of the building was as far as Rhett could tell at this point was completely unarmed and it was only the two of them now. Rhett made a quick glance over to the right and left. They were alone. The other men must have already left the parking lot.

“Don’t try it,” the man hissed in his ear. “I don’t need a gun to hurt you. Even if you have a few inches on me.”

Rhett’s face tightened. For the first time since all of this insanity began, he was angry. Angry at being manhandled and told what to do. Angry at being scared about losing his own life and the lives of innocent people and coworkers who had just been minding their own fucking business today. Had gone to the bank just to cash a paycheck or to pay a bill. Each set of those frightened eyes had families and friends. There had been at least three customers who were barely out of their teens for god’s sake.

“Where are you taking me?” Rhett asked. His voice was small but clear.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” the man replied. “Just keep in mind that just because we left doesn’t mean that everything is wine and roses in your workplace. You cause a problem, and things get...complicated. Understand?”

The beating of Rhett’s heart increased. What the hell could that mean? Were there other people who had entered the bank while he and this man were in the back? Was there a bomb?

“Yeah, I understand,” Rhett muttered. The knot in his stomach twinged as he thought of dead people all around the charred bank floor. Dead because he just had to prove himself to this obviously insane man now placing him in the front seat of a running black car. Some sort of Honda if Rhett knew his car models. He winced as his hands were tied together with what looked like thick nylon rope until his wrists throbbed with the pressure.

“Good lad,” the masked man chuckled. He slammed the passenger door and rounded to the other side.

Rhett made a sweep of the inside of the car as the robber walked briskly to the driver’s side door. There was electronic equipment all around that made sense to have in a late model car. GPS and digital screen. However there were other buttons and flashing lights that looked like they were out of some sort of twisted James Bond film. If Rhett hadn’t been beside himself with fear he probably would have found it curious.

The man hopped into the driver’s seat and closed the door. They took off slowly out of the bank parking lot and headed to the right. Rhett knew by now that Stevie must have gotten to one hundred and must be calling the police. Not that it would do a huge amount of good. Even with the cameras outside, the car that they were in could easily blend in with others in traffic.

The man beside him pulled off his right glove and pressed the touch screen in the dash area. The GPS chimed on and started giving them directions, but did not announce the actual final destination. Rhett focused on keeping himself as calm as possible. He needed to do whatever he could to continue to get as much information as possible for the police once he was able to escape. With his hands bound there was no way that he could punch the driver, or even tuck and roll out of the car if he needed. He was trapped for now.

There was a small humming coming from the man to his left, and he tapped his still gloved left hand against the steering wheel as he drove. Rhett wondered in his head if he would take off the ski mask at some point soon. Even if they were in a unassuming vehicle, a guy in a black ski mask on a sunny day in LA would absolutely draw attention to people who happened to pass them in their cars.

Yet the British man kept the mask on, and pulled up on a quieter side street. He pulled out a similar flip phone to the one that Rhett had seen the smallest man on while they were still in the bank. He pressed a few buttons and then put the phone to his ear.

“Yeah, it’s me,” the man mumbled into the phone. “On Hilltop and Vine. Heading for the drop off in ten.” He paused and then chuckled at something the person on the other line must have said.

“No, no...he’s doing fine. Got a little daring, but you know that’s what I’m into. Taking a detour, but everything is on the up and up. Ten o’clock like planned. Cheers.”

He closed the phone and ended the call. Rhett took small looks over at the man now. The other man didn’t seem to care that he was. The neighborhood that they were in seemed to be dotted in small houses and large trees. Some sort of small suburb that Rhett had never been to before.

“I think this is a good enough spot,” the robber said. More to himself than to Rhett. The car slowed to a stop, but he left the engine running.

Rhett’s heart wasn’t going to be able to last with all of these sudden fluctuations. His ribcage already felt like it had been kick in a few times. The other man chuckled again, apparently reading Rhett’s stress in his face.

“Relax,” the man whispered, and there was something about the tone of the voice that seemed almost familiar. As if Rhett had felt the weight of that breathy timbre somewhere before.

“What...what do you mean about this being a good enough spot,” Rhett whispered back.

Rhett wasn’t stupid. He knew that hostages usually didn’t stay hostages for long. They became something else when their value was no longer seen. Usually a human shield, and eventually a corpse once the immediate danger of being caught was over. As far as Rhett could tell, there was no more danger for any of the four men. Hell, there was barely any danger even while they were taking whatever they wanted out of the bank. It had been almost painfully easy for them to rob the National USA Bank at 6711 Haversfield Drive. And Rhett apparently was going to be disposed of on this cute little side road. A bullet to the brain by this asshole who was just sitting there and looking at him.  

_ Looking _ at him like he had picked him up early from work and they were on their way to a baseball game, or to the movies. Rhett assumed that the gun must be somewhere in the back. Within just a few quick movements he would die and his twitching body pushed out of the passenger seat and onto the street like a odd afternoon package for some poor shocked housewife to discover on her way to get the mail.

Rhett turned his head to stare at the robber. If he was going to die, then he was sure as hell going to make sure that the person who took his life would have to witness every single part of his death. Watch as his eyes rolled back and his face went tense and then slacken as blood fell away from his chest or head or wherever the hell he would shoot him first.

The masked man blinked at Rhett. There was something about his unwavering gaze that caused Rhett’s stomach knot to loosen just a bit. The way that it would when you think you are startled from behind by a friend that you thought was an enemy. Rhett tilted his head and stared. That same familiar wave of knowledge rippled through him. He gave a slight tug at his wrist bindings.

Then slowly the man picked up a small cup that had been sitting in the cup holder next to him with his still gloved left hand. For a moment Rhett thought that the masked man was going to drink the clear fluid. Maybe he needed to wet his throat before he murdered him. Odd ritual, but what did that matter to Rhett at the moment. Then the British man reached for his own face and with a small gasp Rhett witnessed two brown colored contact lenses be taken out and placed into the cup. It must be contact lens solution. Rhett only got a brief flash of blue eyes right before the masked man’s eyelids fluttered closed and within another quick tug the ski mask was pulled off of the man’s head to reveal a thick amount of dark brown hair sprinkled with silver. They shimmered in the sunshine. Rhett’s mouth was opened. He hadn’t even remembered his face changing at all, and closed it with a sharp snap.

“Hey there, Rhett,” Charles said. His voice was soft and somewhat shy as he looked back up at the stunned man sitting next to him. His large hands bound and his green eyes so wide that it was causing him actual physical pain. “I’m sorry I missed our date, but I’m gonna make it up to you. Right now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always a big thanks to fanbabble for her betareading!


	9. Surprises are not for the Weak of Heart

Rhett never liked surprises. He was that angry little boy in the restaurant who refused to smile as the polaroid captured him in the pointy hat. Everyone else around him all singing off key some off brand version of  _ Happy Birthday _ . His mouth in a scowl that would let anyone know who looked at that faded photograph decades later that this was  _ definitely _ not his idea, and that there would be hell to pay for embarrassing him.

April Fools Day as well was full of Rhett looking over his shoulder for idiotic friends who might jump out from darkened hallways and thick outside bushes. Their faces falling into delight as they scared the living shit out of him. That was when Rhett learned that he punched people when he was surprised.

_ In the face, apparently. _

There was no way for Charles Neal to have know this, of course. Granted, they had grown up in the same city, but it already had been established during previous chats in Rhett’s office that they had never run into each other back then. Not even in passing. Still, that didn’t help Rhett not react to being utterly and completely startled by the solid fact that the man whom Rhett James McLaughlin had met, flirted with, pined over, and on at least three occasions in the last week had masturbated to, had been the head of a highly orchestrated robbery. That this  _ same _ man who Rhett had been stood up by after one of the most scorching make outs of his adult life, had held him up at gunpoint, threatened countless customers and employees and now was presently holding him hostage, was looking at him with a tentative smile. As if worried that Rhett might be annoyed.

_ Charles Neal was incredibly correct about this. _

Rhett felt something inside of his head snap, and then he lunged at Charles. Like a man who had been pushed just one too many times and had forgotten any sense of self preservation. He didn’t get very far between the seat belt holding him in place and the nylon rope around his wrists, but god damn it he was sure going to try. If Rhett had not been temporarily out of his mind with rage, he would have found Charles’ reaction to his attempted attack hilarious. The way that the glistening blue eyes went wide with shock at the sudden change in Rhett’s disposition. The quick way that Charles was able to dodge the swing of Rhett’s bound arms and closed fists to wherever Rhett could make contact. In the back of Rhett’s brain, the idea that there was probably a gun in the back somewhere, and the still hidden hint of danger of a bomb or something more back at the bank was screaming at Rhett to act reasonably. Fuck reason.

“Hey,” Charles yelped, and for the first time since Rhett had heard Charles’ real voice or the very well done deeper toned British accent from just a few minutes ago, there was a note of fear within it. Charles didn’t expect this type of reaction at all, and was absolutely thrown by it.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Rhett screamed, and the closed windows in the car seemed to actually rattle. “You mother fucking son of a bitch!”

At this point Rhett was connecting awkward punches with all of his might. The seat belt was stopping him from doing a huge amount of damage, but Charles hadn’t counted on the reality of Rhett’s long arms being a huge advantage in the medium sized car.

“Wait,” Charles squeaked as he tried and failed to block the hits to his arms, chest and stomach. “Just...give me a chance to explain. Ow!”

The latest smack landed directly on Charles’ right cheek, and the momentum had the back of Charles’ skull hit the driver side window. Momentarily stunned, it gave Rhett just enough time to start to turn around and start to fumble to open the passenger seat. The electric lock button was no good. Charles must have put the safety lock on.

Within another moment the car took off with a squeal of tires. Rhett flew back into the seat as he grunted in another jolt of surprise. He swiveled back around to glare at Charles, who was making a point of not looking at him at all. His eyes were narrowed in what must have been frustration at Rhett’s reaction. Rhett at the moment hated Charles with every single bit of his soul.

“You fucking  _ used _ me,” Rhett grumbled as he slumped in his seat. His face looking anywhere but at Charles now. “You robbed my bank. Terrified my staff and customers, and you…”

The rest of the accusations felt too bitter to push out of his mouth. Rhett felt sick. His body was a swirl of so much broken hope and disgust at himself that he might as well be drowning in it. He actually had allowed the dream of someone liking him. Really  _ liking _ him to find a home within his chest. He had been giddy now that he really took time to let everything fall into place. Actually giddy when Charles had asked him out. Imagined their first date full of laughter and wine and maybe even a sweet goodnight kiss.

Now each bat of the dark eyelashes and sweet lopsided smile told Rhett a totally different story. How could he be so remarkably dense? Charles had carefully weaved questions about the bank that seemed so innocent back then. Obviously they were not. All just part of an overall goal to get what Charles wanted. Money, some odd documents, and now to just to throw away the extra baggage.

There were no other sounds in the car except the the purr of the engine. The world was rushing by in flickers and blurs. Rhett was sure what was going to happen next. He was going to die. He had just attacked an armed robber who had him trapped in a getaway car. It wasn’t a matter of if at this point, but of when.

“I did use you,” a soft voice said to Rhett’s left side. “But not in the way that you think. The plan was to get some additional information about the bank layout and to ensure that you would be there to open up the back vault, but...the kiss…”

Rhett was already turning to look over to Charles. His sharp profile looked even better with the shadows of passing trees. The lips were downturned and there was a quiver in the words, as if it was causing him pain to say his thoughts out loud.

“The kiss,” Charles continued, “That...that wasn’t part of any plan. It...was me just feeling something more than what I should have been feeling, and I had every intention of going out on that date. The plans for the heist changed last minute.”

There was an apology in the explanation that surrounded them. Rhett could already sense the adrenaline leaving his body as he took small but deep breaths in and out.

“So you kidnapped me so you could take me out for coffee, or something?”

Charles glanced over to meet Rhett's baffled face before looking back at the road.

“Oh please, Rhett...grabbing you added two to three more felonies to the growing list for today. We're having at least a proper dinner at a five star restaurant for that.”

A spasm of what could only be laughter erupted from Rhett’s mouth. It was high pitched and didn’t sound like anything that Rhett had heard before. There was another laugh behind it, and then another one. Before Rhett could contemplate how insane he had gone he was laughing so hard that his sides were hurting. Charles was giggling too.

“So, does this mean that you’re not planning on killing me later?” Rhett said, still chuckling with a tinge of worry at the edges.

Charles’ expression was one of puzzlement. There was even the slight tilt of the head that Rhett had seen before.

“I’m not planning on doing anything but taking you out for a nice dinner, and apologizing to you over and over again until either my voice goes out or you tell me to shut the hell up. Whichever comes first.”

The engine purred even louder against the new wave of silence. Rhett took a small swallow as he gave himself the time his muscles needed to relax from the rush. Then he began to follow the lines of Charles’ legs and traveled his gaze up to the slight curve of his hips to the toned belly and chest. He swallowed again, and the familiar sense of desire floated back into his veins like a old returning friend.

“Are you going to leave me tied up?” Rhett asked, with a small lift of his arms. “Gonna be hard to eat like this, you know. Plus the server might get the wrong idea about my participation.”

Charles’ head drifted off to the left as if giving Rhett’s words careful consideration before slowing down the car. Rhett still had no idea of where they were, but from the tiny buildings and mild traffic they must be away from the city. The sun was just beginning to sink into the hilltops and the sky a muddled orange. Charles pulled out a pocket knife from his back pocket and Rhett gave a little jump as the blade shimmered.

“Relax,” Charles said softly. “And keep still as you can. I’m not...great with knives…”

Rhett wished that he hadn’t heard that, and the slight tremble of nerves in Charles’ hand did not help him feel more comfortable. Rhett watched the bottom lip bitten between teeth as the flash of silver grew closer. In two quick motions Charles cut away the rope and Rhett’s hands were freed. It was only then that Rhett had realized how tightly his wrists had been tied together. There was a warm sensation as blood flowed more easily to his hands and fingers. Charles looked just as relieved as he did.

Their eyes met as Rhett lost the thank you that he had been about to say. Instead he watched the plump lips as Charles’ licked them, almost absentmindedly. Rhett’s chest felt tight as his body leaned towards the other man. Newly freed hands deciding where to touch first. To cup a cheek or to run his fingers through the soft hair. Both options seemed like the perfect idea. Charles was equally stumped as to where to to roam. To squeeze the broad shoulders or small of the back. 

With a slight curse of surprise Charles reached for his side pocket and pulled out the flip phone. Rhett enjoyed the fact that Charles was irritated at being interrupted.

“What?” Charles said sharply. There was a static filled voice on the other side, and the narrowed cut of the blue eyes went suddenly wide and alarmed. Rhett frowned, and he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but there was no reason for Charles to explain. It was a droning echo that was slowly finding the way into Rhett’s fuzzy recollection. He had heard this sound before. Along with all of the other ambient noises of the everyday life that Rhett was a part of before he met the man sitting across from him. The dark eyebrows set into a gentle resolution that comes right before a burst of energy.

Police sirens. And they were headed straight towards them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you to my beta reader fanbabble for rescuing this chapter! ❤️


	10. Car Chases are Chicken Soup for the Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay for this and other stories. Here is (finally) the next chapter. Thank you for sticking around! <3

If Rhett had been told that within the space of a week he would break up with his casual sexual  partner and become romantically involved with a man who was now the armed robber who had just kidnapped him, he would have laughed. Laughed long and hard in the way that a normal rational human being would laugh at something so fundamentally crazy. Laughed so long and hard that he would have had to sit down to catch his breath until his face became the normal shade it usually was. Then asked for a handkerchief or tissue to help him wipe the tears from his eyes.

It was unfortunate that this was no joke, but Rhett might still end up in tears.

Car chases are not what you see in movies. In reality, they are full of a lot more afternoon traffic turns and lot less epic music. The sirens were behind them and gaining speed, and before Rhett could register that no amount of potential Charles Neal ass -  _ a glorious ass, granted _ \- was worth a bullet to the back of the skull on a non payday week, the wheels of the car squealed with the force of a missile and propelled them forward. 

“Hang on,” Charles called out, and Rhett did. His right hand gripped the on that up until now useless hook that dangled right above the door and his left hand clung onto the side of his chair. His grip was so tight that it pulsed in pain against the buttery smooth black leather. 

The first turn jerked them both to the right, and the GPS chimed lazily that they were going in the wrong direction. Link giggled at the device, with his ocean blue eyes twinkling as he twisted the steering wheel with all of his might to the left. Rhett didn’t know that the life that flashed before his eyes had been so incredibly boring before he met the absolute maniac in the seat to his left. 

It didn’t help that Charles looked  _ good _ there, at his left side. Like a part of a song that he hadn’t realized he was missing. As if the radio edit was the only one he sung along to, but now he knew  _ all _ of the words. The tempo was faster. There was cursing and gunshots and  _ fuck _ did he love it. Rhett would play it on loop until his ears bled and the neighbors called the cops because of the noise.

The tires might be actually disintegrating under their feet. Rubbery smoke filled Rhett’s nostrils and that was not good. That was decidedly not good if Rhett thought about it too much. Charles veered to the right again. A side street with perfect little houses all in perfect little rows full of perfect little lawns. The black car was a blur, and Rhett marveled at the skill that Charles had as he snaked his way past the collection of lined vehicles parked in perfect little lines. 

_ Rhett needed to breathe. Breathing was a good thing.  _

“I’d close your eyes for this,” Charles chuckled. 

Rhett wanted to ask why, but his answer came up fast from the other lane. A police cruiser blocked the exit to the main set of roads with an officer already poised with a gun that could probably flatten an elephant if need be. His aim was on point in more ways than one, and they were headed straight at him. 

Well, so much for Rhett's 401k and general retirement plan.  At least death would be better than dealing with Monday morning traffic in LA. In reflection, Rhett was glad that he didn’t close his eyes. If he had he would have missed it. The way that the cop’s confidence fell away as he connected that Charles Neal was not going to stop the car. The way the giant shotgun fell out of his hands and to the street below as at the final moment Charles swerved to the right and zipped past the blinking lights and blaring siren. All that was missing was the battle cry from the narrow escape. 

Tears burn when they are unexpected, and now Rhett  _ definitely _ needed those tissues. 

Charles laughed once more, but this time Rhett joined him. His stomach might have been left back there with the baffled policeman, but his heart was still in his chest, and beating stronger and faster than ever before. Charles glanced over at him, and gave him a quick wink that made something fierce and visceral flood through Rhett’s bloodstream, and the left hand released from the soft leather and rested on Charles’ right thigh and squeezed. 

“You are without a fucking doubt,” Rhett huffed as they turned onto the mouth of the highway, “the craziest man I have ever met, Charles Neal.”

Charles flashed him a grin, as if Rhett had said the most complimentary thing in the world.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, bo. And from now on...call me Link.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you to fanbabble for the beta reading and editing!


	11. A Taste of What's to Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story continues, thanks to all of you and the wonderful fanbabble. ❤️

_ Adrenaline Junkie _ was not the description for Rhett.  _ Beard Enthusiast _ , absolutely.  _ Functional Alcoholic _ , if you took the time to really pay attention. However for Rhett to be seen as the type to enjoy the rush of a car chase? Certainly not. At least not until a Monday afternoon that had begun in such a dull and typical kind of way.

Yet here he was, chest heaving up and down. His left hand still holding onto the slender right leg of a man who could pull off one hell of a hairpin turn. The lopsided smirk already finding pathways into every bit of Rhett's cracking armor with the force of a North Carolina thunderstorm.

"You ready for that dinner I promised?"

Rhett chuckled weakly, but nodded just the same. The drive now comfortably coasting around 60mph. Charles - or  _ Link _ at this point it seemed - even used his turn signals, because this must be what passed as normal to him. Wake up. Brush teeth and shower. Get dressed in you finest ski mask and steal a few little items from your local bank.

"Great," Link continued. "Just need to head over to the safe house and change. You look like a red meat kind of man. Steaks work for you?"

Rhett knew that this should have been a ridiculous conversation. He had been kidnapped, yet here he was again nodding his head to whatever madness this was. Could Stockholm Syndrome occur in just a matter of an hour?

They stayed on the highway for what felt like forever. Even the gas light blinked on, though Link seemed to pay it no attention. The phone calls from the little flip phone were also ignored. Instead, Link only seemed to find two points of contact worth his time. The road ahead, long and winding, and Rhett’s gentle touch, long and winding as well. Every so often Rhett would glance over at the stunning profile, and wonder if this was all part of some sort of elaborate joke of Stevie's. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t see her doing something this over the top. The justification already finely tuned before Rhett could get out a single word of irritation.

Eventually the black vehicle turned onto an exit to the right. The rolling hills of countryside reminded Rhett of his family home, and of the smell of sweet Earth and Carolina Lupine blossoms. His mother calling out to him to get back before dark and him never being able to follow that one simple rule. How would Momma Di see him now, he wondered. Hostage transformed into something much rougher around the edges.

A bump in narrow dirt road pulled Rhett back from the heat of a summer long lost to the cool air conditioning of the luxury car. The tiny house off to the left side humble and unassuming. If Rhett had somehow ended up here by himself, he could have seen this place belonging to an elderly woman who spent her days drying laundry on a washline outside and baking a variety of sweet pies and cakes.

“Welcome to our little hideout,” Link said with a wink as he pulled the car off to the side and parked. “The rest of the guys are still out, so we have the place to ourselves for a while.”

Rhett smiled and with much more effort than he thought it would take, he took his hand off of Link’s thigh, and exited the car. His back was thankful for the ability to finally stretch. Joints and bones both popped and cracked and then gave a relieved sort of sigh. It was only when Rhett turned that he realized that there were a pair of stunning blue eyes only a foot or so behind him.

The kiss was soft and sweet when Link gave it. Like a butterfly trying out its wings for the first time. The delicate brush of lips too gentle for Rhett to actually feel it against his chin, but the warmth lingered and held onto every single follicle of his beard, and Rhett knees wobbled at the sensation.

“Sorry,” Link whispered as he opened the gap between them. “Hope that was okay...should have asked before I - ”

Rhett didn’t think that kisses could make apologies taste even sweeter, but whatever the end of Link’s sentence was swallowed as he pressed his mouth to the smaller man. Relationships, or whatever this was, shouldn’t start this way. Rhett was at his core logical and rational. He had an apartment and a car that he paid for each month on time. He didn’t speed or get parking tickets. He paid his taxes.

He recycled, for God's sake.

He was  _ not _ the type to be making out with an armed gunman on an isolated dirt road in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. He was  _ not _ the type to throw the proverbial caution to the wind because of a pair of big blue eyes and an incredible ass. He was not the type to be anything else but ordinary and predicatible Rhett James McLaughlin.

_ But that all changed today. _


	12. Secondary functions for kitchen countertops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are back! Thank you to the wonderful fanbabble for patience in this chapter finally getting to her. Feedback is always cherished.

When you’re 6’7 you get used to being noticed. It was something that Rhett had begun dealing with even when he was still very young. The side eye glances when he entered a room in a body that just didn’t fit quite right yet. The oversized feet and overbroad shoulders coupled with a mouth full of baby teeth.  An oddity that was allowed to be commented on. Even chuckled about by anyone who felt like the  _ How’s the weather up there? _ was the literal height of humor, and absolutely the _ first time _ that Rhett had heard that question. 

When he was able to grow a respectable amount of facial hair and afford to have his clothes fitted, he did. Poured all of his time in trying to adjust to a world that wasn’t made for giants. It helped that he had inherited his mother’s eyes along with her self deprecating humor. Sure as hell was the main reason he left his senior prom with both the loss of his car keys along with his virginity.

_ At least the keys were eventually recovered. _

Back then Rhett could only see a future full of occasional casual sex and the slow uphill climb to middle management. He had achieved both goals even a couple of years ahead of schedule. And it’s not like he had a  _ bad _ life, when he took the time to think about it. He had Stevie to make the work days go by with gentle teasing. He had a steady fling with Josh. There was nothing wrong with his existence. Yet he couldn’t stop smiling as he was pulled along by the man who had captured something more than just his hands in temporary bindings. The dark hair fluttered in the soft breeze of the wall air conditioning unit as the front door was closed and both of them locked away inside. 

Link’s hand squeezed his, and continued to lead Rhett down a narrow hallway. The pictures on the wall full of smiling faces that looked nothing like the man in front of Rhett. Their noses all much too large and mouths too small for them to have any family connection. Then again, perhaps this place belonged to one of the other men in ski masks. Rhett blinked as he tried to envision any of the men fishing or swimming in the photos being capable of holding a gun. Or of needing money so badly that it would be worth the risk of disappointing the children and women in the faded picture frames. 

“You want something to drink?”

Rhett blinked again, and realized at once that they had stopped. The kitchen off to the left and full of the type of tiny baskets of fake flowers and small statues of roosters that one would assume would be in a house like this. Link had released his hand to motion vaguely to the refrigerator before moving over to the counter top and grabbing a red apple from a large bowl of fruit sitting there. 

“Not unless it’s alcohol.”

Link giggled, and then shook his head. “Sorry bo, but this isn’t the type of place that has a hidden stash of the fine wine that you’re used to, I’m afraid. I can definitely make sure to get you drunk properly at dinner though.”

Then with a small wink and a large bite of the apple is what made Rhett tremble. It wasn’t fair. That this man was able to stir up things inside Rhett that caused him to doubt his own sanity. Yet here he was one moment swallowing a groan, and then the next moment tasting what was leftover from the apple off of Link’s sticky lips. Feeling the curves of his bottom as he grabbed wherever he could to hoist the smaller man onto the countertop so they were  _ almost _ the same height, and licking the curses off of the wider mouth. 

It was Link’s turn to look surprised, and Rhett was proud of the moment. The way the blue eyes went from slight alarm as he had advanced to the lusty understanding of what Rhett was wanting to do. To put words and phrases and promises and dirty scenarios into every lick and nibble. For his hips and groin to grind into the slot between them so that an appetizer would be happening way before dinner. 

“Oh shit...you’re gonna make me... _ oh _ …”

Rhett chuckled as Link's train of thought derailed. His hand had found its way to the hardness inside of Link’s tightened pants and rubbed. Rubbed and teased and touched. Wanted to hear what other pretty little sounds that could be made against the column of his throat. Heated breath and reckless need. Rhett documented everything. The fact that Link seemed to enjoy being stroked slow. Teased into the trembling mass who only wanted Rhett to touch him. To play with his body like the guitar that Link didn’t know was still pulled out on quiet nights when Rhett was sure that Josh wasn’t around.

“Call me bo again,” Rhett rasped, his hand becoming more confident. 

“Bo,” Link moaned. The vowel drawled out like a prayer. His thrusts fast and firm inside the tunnel of Rhett’s long fingers. “Bo…”

The surge of arousal was making Rhett dizzy, so he widened his stance. Link didn’t seem to notice the slight shift in their positions. Or perhaps he did, and just didn’t give any part of a damn. The extra room gave Rhett the ability to slide his left hand from the small of Link’s back to his strong jawline. Relish the feeling of the mechanics in how Link kissed him. He never wanted it to end.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Link whimpered as his rhythm staggered and his head dropped onto Rhett’s right shoulder. The smell of yearning caught up in the strands of his hair and beads of sweat on his browline, and Rhett didn’t let go until he could actually feel Link coming way before he saw it. The white hot pulse of pleasure erupt on the pad of his curved hand and then splash onto both of their bare stomachs. The fabric hiked up from all the energy between them. The tenseness in Link’s muscles becoming relaxed in almost an instant. His pupils blown wide as he looked up into Rhett’s face, and inhaled and exhaled as if breathing was a brand new phenomenon.

“You made me ruin the fuck out of my robbin' pants,” he wheezed. The faintest air of a chuckle in the accusation.

“Robbing pants, huh? Call it pay back for the blue balls you gave me after that office kiss,” Rhett replied, and they both laughed.

“Fair enough,” Link muttered. He placed a peck of a kiss on the corner of Rhett's prideful mouth. The smug almost painful in its intensity. Yet giving a crap just wasn't something that could be mustered right now. Rhett enjoyed this conclusion more than he let on, and helped Link off of the counter and to the last bedroom on the right


	13. Showers and Continuing Erections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes it's been forever, but thank you to everyone who has stayed with the story. Also to fanbabble for her lovely beta reading!

Rhett moved after Link like a lust driven shadow. His green eyes darting from the sway of the angled hips and small scratch marks left on the small of the other man’s back. The bedroom that Rhett was lead into was clearly the master bedroom, with a double sized mattress covered in a quilt that was probably made by the original owner of this place. Pastel colored flowers interwoven to create a countryside scene, and Rhett rubbed the thick stitching with the palm of his hands as he sat down.

 

“It feels even better when you’re naked underneath it.”

 

Then a small wink as Link began to unzip and pull off his pants right in front of Rhett, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary at all. Rhett gave an audible swallow, and Link smiled.

 

“I’m gonna take a shower. Want to join me?”

 

Rhett swallowed again, and nodded. Then he followed the slight curve of Link's right hip to the muscled calf. The firmness of his body making Rhett's breath catch. 

 

"The sooner we eat the sooner we can get back here," Link chuckled. "You gonna just stare at me?"

 

Staring was fine. Touching was better. So with a smooth shift Rhett was back on his feet and wrapping his arms around the slender shoulder. The kisses feather light against his throat as he melted into something so much closer to bliss than should have been allowed. 

 

Once they reached the bathroom, Link took a hold of Rhett's shirt and pulled it over his head. Then trailed his fingertips down Rhett's bare chest and stomach. It tickled just enough for Rhett to twitch. 

 

"So sensitive," Link remarked. "My, how much fun you're going to be…"

 

Rhett's mind reeled at the innuendo and the possibilities. His groin already more interested than it needed to be right at this moment. The unzip of his pants broke the tension, and indeed it was way too early to be this hard. 

 

"Glad to know you like being undressed," Link said as his left hand reached inside and gave Rhett's penis a gentle tug.

 

Somewhere inside Rhett was aware that they were in the middle of the woods and he was technically still being kidnapped. This part of his brain seemed to be gentle pushing this point to the surface, but fuck if he would actually listen. There were more interesting sounds to focus on, like the ones coming from his half opened mouth. A keening and desperate noise that was encouraging the dexterous fingers around his cock to continue their exploration.

 

The shower curtain was pulled open with Link's free right hand, and the gentle rubs stopped. 

 

"If you want more, then you gotta get in the shower Rhett."


End file.
